Gaurav Ojha
When love happens
It is like frenzied molecules
Collided head-on by insensible coincidence
So carelessly
Never think of a better person or search for a better version of you
Even after all the permutations and combinations
It’s you
Even if moments in love are simply like
Running around, waiting, shouting, discussing, schedules,
Kitchen, family, saving, housing and understanding,
Love is,
When you can look into the eyes that accept you
As you are crazy, lousy, aloof, indifferent, selfish, sluggish, looser…
Even if you say to her, I am all these
Surely, she misses you, though you are alive
As if there are things still left to do
As she shares a soft tissue with broken string of words
Taste her love before they evaporate
In between taking off and putting on the your clothes again
It’s mutual; we don’t share chocolates and flowers anymore
We have walked past each other
And, bumped into shadows hanging underneath the pictures on the wall
When the flames of passions can no longer light the midnight candle
Love turns into something dull like communication process and change management
Love can frighten you with shades of a demon on soft innocent face
Never think of love as a spotless skin
Never expect eternal optimism, either
Let love fall into the dark nights of soul
As glow of love remains covered by the ashes of mundane
Frustrations, depressions and blood pressure
Never give solutions
It’s not a weakness to let go, leave or separate
Beds can’t remain warm when hearts turn cold
Mismatched notes also find sweet resonance
In another key
But never stop from eating, working, thinking and sleeping
Don’t let your life fall into disarray
Never throw away yourself, and you will find the direction in love again
And, after years, of disappearing our days together
As I watch her sleep
There is no search for comfort
Other than each other
As paltry as we are, excited or bored
Aroused or annoyed
Our everyday love remains committed with children fairy-tale of snowflakes, windstorms, ripening pumpkin, burning woods, smokes, sneezes, warm sun and rain
[Gaurav Ojha is engaged as a faculty of communication, critical thinking, academic writing and marketing research at different educational institutions. As a part of his creative interests, Mr. Ojha has regularly published opinion posts, poems and articles on a wide range of topics from death, love, disease, social issues, and humanism to post-religious spirituality.]